Veronica VanDyke, long lost sister of Harry Potter
by Romy Elana Scott
Summary: Awesome story, took forever! My first FanFiction story, please don't judge!
1. Chapters 1 and 2

This is the story of me, Veronica VanDyke, the long-lost sister of Harry Potter.

Chapter 1

Rain fell in icy-cold sheets outside the window. I couldn't see two feet in front of me because of the thick, dense fog. The windshield wipers worked furiously, trying vainly to clear my foster mom's vision. Paula, my foster mom, was not too incredibly happy about my being invited to Hogwarts.

I should probably mention that I had no idea I was Harry Potter's long-lost sister at this point.

"Ya know I'm glad you're goin' darlin', but I'm gonna miss ya a little. Well anywho, here we are at King's Cross Station. Remember, run straight at the barrier and don' be 'fraid. See ya next summer!" Paula drawled.  
"Yeah, Paula! Um... well, thanks for, you know, er... taking care of me the past year. I... it was... fun." I finished with a sigh. To tell you the truth, a neat freak like me plus a slob like Paula didn't mix well.  
"Youuuuuu betcha!" she hollered, drawing considerable attention to us and our beat-up Toyota.  
"Um, yeah. Anyway, my... trunk?" In addition to messy, Paula also happened to be utterly forgetful.  
"Oh! Yes." she reached for the backseat, on which sat my trunk, containing my FIREBOLT broomstick I got for my birthday, my wand, my cauldron, my robes, and on top of my trunk sat my most prized possession, Aleda, my messenger owl, sat in her cage, her head tucked under her wing like a swan, asleep. I picked the name Aleda because it meant "small and winged" in Latin. That, and the spell to turn someone into a bird was "Aledaeus".

The ride to Hogwarts was long but fascinating. I shared a compartment with a kid named Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor and the Famed Three, as they had come to be known: Ron, Hermione, and none other than the famous Harry Potter himself! As it turned out, Harry and I had a very similar past. We were both orphaned at the age of one by Voldemort. We both lived, but Voldemort had given us both scars, Harry's on his forehead, in the shape of lightning, mine on the inside of my wrist, in the shape of a heart.

When we arrived at Hogwarts, I was cramped but excited. Hagrid was very kind and lovable, but bumbling and oafish. I could tell he cared about me, because when I was telling him about my past, he kept blinking in amazement and giving me sideways glances. When I finished, he kindly informed me that Sorting had started.

Chapter 2

My turn came at last. I was so nervous. I sat down on the spindly-legged stool, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the sides of the stool as hard as I could. I put on the dirty, ragged hat and waited anxiously.

"A Parselmouth, I see! Don't get many of those very often." I heard the hat say in my head. What's a Parselmouth? After a long, tense pause he began again: "Do you know who you are?" I swallowed hard. "Veronica VanDyke. But VanDyke's not really my last name. It's my foster mom's." I replied sheepishly.

"Well, Victoria, you're not VanDyke. You, my friend, are Victoria Potter, sister of Harry Potter." He explained sagely. I was? Oh wow! This is awesome! "GRYFFINDOR!" he roared to the rest of the first years. Shaking with bewilderment, curiosity, but most of all, excitement, I walked over to the Gryffindor table to enjoy the feast. I took a seat next to Hermione Granger. "Hi, Hermione. Um, can I ask you something? It's a little bit... personal." Hermione, mouth full of chicken and bread, replied "Oh, sure, but if it's private we should probably wait until tonight. I'm so excited about us sharing a dormitory!"

Looking into the mirror that evening, before Hermione arrived, I saw my unmanageable raven ringlets, as usual, my round glasses covering my deep, magical (it seemed out of place to describe something normal as "magical" now that I knew I was a young witch) green eyes, as usual, and my heart-shaped scar on my wrist, as usual. But somehow, all these things seemed different, the kind of different like when you're moving and all the stuff, all the little trinkets, that made your room unique, are gone, and now there's just a bed and empty bookshelf left. The old house would never be as appreciated as much as the new house. Like the old me would never be appreciated as much as the new me.

Then I heard a door click and Hermione strode in, flinging herself on her bed. "Hey Veronica, what did you want to ask me at the feast?"

"Well, you know how Harry and I are... really alike? Like, creepily alike?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, turns out... I'm his..." I couldn't bring myself to say it. _Do it, Veronica __VanDyke__ Potter!_

"Veronica?"

"I'm his sister."


	2. Chapter 3

Hermione stared at me for a while. When she was done, she nodded slowly.

"Unbelievable." She muttered.

"Well, believe it. I'm Veronica Potter." I gave her a cautious, sarcastic half smile. She returned it.

That night we settled into bed exhausted. Our beds were right next to each other, and as it turned out, Hermione being first in every class and a second year, she was able to give me lots of helpful tips and a tour around the school. Not only that, but her cat Crookshanks and Aleda had become fast friends just like Hermione and I had. As the school was full of surprises, like talking mirrors and altering hallways, I told myself to stick with Hermione, Ron, or Harry. One of the many magnificent things about Hogwarts was the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He was quite a character, warm and caring, but also funny and sagelike. He was able to poke fun at the most dramatic situations.

I woke up the next morning feeling like a different person. My confidence level was sky-high, when usually I'm quiet and reserved. Maybe Hermione put a spell on me in my sleep. ;) I got dressed and combed my hair, forgetting to brush my teeth in my rush. My robes were a little big on my lanky frame, but I didn't mind. "Hurry up or we're gonna be late!" Hermione called from her position holding the door open. "Coming!" I shouted and hurried along behind her.


	3. Chapter 4

Hermione and I had a blast that week at Hogwarts. As it turns out, Dumbledore was quite fond of me. I was also excellent at Quidditch. Harry and I had started acting more like siblings. When I showed him my FIREBOLT broom, he was practically drooling over it and now I let him ride it at Quidditch practices every other morning. Hogwarts had finally started feeling like home. Of course, I'd met Fred and George Weasley, the jokesters. Hermione had become something along the lines of a sister to me, and she even offered me to come with her to Brazil next summer (I told her I'd check with Paula first).

One day, out of nowhere, Professor McGonagall called me into her office in the middle of a Quidditch game I was watching between Gryffindor and Slytherin. "Miss Veronica... Potter. I need you for a moment." So I followed her through the dark corridors, walking on and on until we came to a stout, square door. On it, a brass sign read: DETENTION ROOM. Why was I going to a detention room? I hadn't done anything wrong. I must not have been hiding my fear well, because Professor McGonagall said hurriedly, "Oh, honey, you're not in trouble. Albus just wishes to speak to you. Alone." And she twisted the door knob and strode in. "Take a seat, honey. Mr. Dumbledore will be here soon. And she left, muttering, "Harry Potter's sister? I don't believe it!" under her breath.

After a few moments, Dumbledore strode in. "You wished to speak to me, sir?" I asked.

"Why, yes, Miss Potter. I did."


	4. Chapter 5

"I have been informed that you are lending your Firebolt broom to Harry." Dumbledore asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Yes sir, I have. He is quite fond of it, sir." I assured him, trying to sound proper.

"He flies well on it?"

"Oh, yes. Absolutely! It's very fast."

"This is good. A slow Seeker is never adequate."

I nodded. "We wouldn't want that sir." I said, smiling.

Dumbledore had a secretive gleam in his eye, like he knew something I didn't.

Leaning closer, Dumbledore said in a hushed voice: "I'm thinking about getting him one. If it works well, I could get them for the whole team. I'd like to see Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup this year."

"My lips are sealed."

Smiling, Dumbledore bowed me out of the room. How would I ever keep this a secret?

That night, I fell asleep beaming with gladness and woke up still grinning. I decided that since it was Saturday and I had nothing to do, I'd go try out my FIREBOLT. I'd never ridden it, just the older brooms they lent us for class with Madam Hooch.

When I got to the Quidditch field, it turned out I had it all to myself. The grass was covered in glittering dewdrops and the sun was just rising. I laid the broom on the dew-coated grass and stuck out my left hand. "Up!" The broom flew into my hand. Mounting it, I kicked off and instantly soared 20 feet in the air. I zipped around, as if looking for the Golden Snitch. Doing loop-the-loops and backflips and all sorts of dangerous (but super fun) things. When I finally decided to touch ground, I was exhausted. All of a sudden, I heard slow, rhythmic clapping from an empty stand. I flew up to where it was coming from. "Harry, take it off." I said, sounding joking but annoyed.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Honestly, who else could it be? You're the only student with an invisibility cloak."

Harry removed the cloak. But I was surprised to see two people under the cloak.

"Oliver Wood," said a burly-looking fifth year, "Quidditch Team Captain and Keeper for Gryffindor."

"I see." I said, trying to sound unimpressed.

"We'd like to put you in the team."


	5. Chapter 6

Now would be a good time to tell you about myself. My name is Veronica Potter. Paula adopted me after my parents were killed by Voldemort. Paula didn't know I was a witch, she didn't know about Harry, she didn't know about Voldemort. She only knew that I was special. She didn't know how. The people at the adoption center had somehow convinced Paula that I had been rescued from abusive parents and needed a home. You had to admit, she was pretty generous to take me in. I don't remember anything before Paula, no mom, no dad, no freak encounter with Voldemort. I'm not really even sure if I've taken this whole magic thing in yet. I'm not saying I don't completely love Hogwarts. I mean, sure, the robes might be a little itchy, and it can get annoying how I keep getting lost, but over all, Hogwarts was, in one word... awesome.

Oliver Wood sent me a letter that evening.

Dearest Veronica,

We have decided on a position for you on the Quidditch team. You are a new Chaser. Congratulations! Meet me at practice, Quidditch field, 6:00 A.M sharp.

-Oliver Wood

That night, as I was lying in bed, a thought occured to me. It's really unfortunate that Muggles don't know about this. Not that I would ever tell someone I didn't trust with my life, but it's always been a dream of Muggles to fly. If only they knew about Hogwarts. Then again, they'd probably sell Dumbledore to a circus. Nevermind. Not a good idea.

With Hermione, Ron and Harry being third years, I was pretty bummed because the only class we were all in together was Potions (not the most fun class). However, Hermione and I had plenty of time to talk at night.

One night, she asked me a question I hadn't even thought of.

"How is Paula doing?"

"Oh. Well, I haven't really talked to her much..." I replied.

"You mean you haven't sent your foster mom even one letter this whole term?"

"Well- er... no."

Changing the subject, I asked, "Hey Hermione? What's a Parselmouth?"

She answered like it was obvious. "Someone who can talk to snakes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Cool!"

The next morning, I pulled on my scarlet and yellow robes, grabbed my broomstick, and headed to the Quidditch field.


	6. Chapter 7

Oliver and Harry met me there. It was another nice day, like yesterday. We practiced hard, not stopping even once the whole hour. Being a Chaser was NOT EASY! I kept having to dodge Bludgers, never taking my eyes off of the Quaffle. By the time practice was over, I was tired, sweaty, thirsty, out of breath, and feeling better than I ever had before.

Back at the Gryffindor common room, I was sitting by the fire when Harry burst in. Hermione was in the middle of an essay about Igor the Itchy. "What's the matter Harry?" Hermione asked a very disturbed Harry. "Nothing. Er... Veronica, can I...?" I nodded and followed him to a chaise lounge at the furthermost corner of the room from Hermione. He sat on one end and leaned his head on the backrest. "Veronica, I was wondering..." He sat up.

Then, he asked the most unexpected question. "Do you remember Mom or Dad?"

Surprisingly, I'd never actually thought about this. "N-no. But I wish I did."

"Oh." He seemed disappointed.

"Do you?" I asked hopefully.

He shook his head.

"I see. I-I'm sorry. Why are you asking?"

"Well, I was just... never mind. Goodnight."

He got up and left.

I called after him. "Harry, is something wrong?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine." And he disappeared into the boys' dormitory.


End file.
